NEW YORK, New York -- In the most regal of smoking jackets, Artemus Buckwald Houndsworth, 57, sips a challice of brandy. Next to the roaring fireplace in his palatial New York flat, Houndsworth -- acclaimed literary scholar and longtime contributer to The New Yorker magazine -- chuckles slightly at the images on his laptop computer screen. "Oh ho ho, this is rather amusing. Apparently, this Charles Norris fellow is quite the ruffian" he comments.

Like many old people (especially those who have made worthwhile contributions to society), Mr. Houndsworth has never seen or heard of internet memes: the infectious, consistently hilarious catchphrases copied, repeated and reproduced all over the world wide web. And, had it not been for a simple misintepretation, a sensible man of wealth and taste such as Mr. Houndsworth may have never uncovered the comedy from which he'd been unknowingly separated. According to Houndsworth:

It is a rare occasion that I'd ever resort to the use of this ridiculous electronic contraption. However, a colleague of mine recommended to me that I view the gallery of Icelandic photojournalist Eiður Lolocattír. Apparently, one can take pictures from a camera and somehow insert them into the internet. What happened next is a bit fuzzy to me, but before long I ended up on a ruckus website with felines posing humorously, accompanied by nonsensical textual captions. Thereafter, I let out a boisterous guffaw. It was quite exhilerating!

Mr. Houndslow's discovery of the internet's fresh, original style of comedy quickly circulated through snobby intellectual circles all over New York. Though some do not fully comprehend the humor in net phenomena, many other stuffy highbrows have come to embrace the internet's massive in-jokes. Allison Juniper Cartwright, a fellow New Yorker staffer, enjoys internet memes thoroughly: "The one, where the rotund young man flails about with the stick. That I particularly enjoy. Oh, and let us not forget that precocious dancing banana; peanut butter jelly time indeed!"

The most popular character among the pointy-headed circles is Homestar Runner, who is praised for "performing a number of entertaining actions once clicked upon by the control apparatus known as a mouse." Now that the floodgates have been opened, other exciting memes are being discovered nearly every day. "We use a website called YouTube, wherein users store video recordings. Similarly, a place called 4chan allows users to put up images which appear to be significantly altered. It is all very droll; we're all utterly captivated."

While New York's most uptight scholars are happily enjoying their cultural discoveries, others are becoming increasingly upset with their newfound pastime. College courses all over the country are being canceled without reschedule as professors await Strong Bad's next email. Quality literature goes unreviewed as bookish scholars flock to view Leeroy Jenkins thwarting another World of Warcraft victory. "This has got to stop!" claims Lisa Romano, a student at NYU. "We haven't had a class in weeks because of the Numa Numa dance?! That's like, SO OLD! I can understand missing class for a funny video, but thats been out for 3 years already! Get with it, Professor Lame-o!"

Artemus Buckwald Houndsworth continues his websurfing undeterred. "I've read every classic work of literature ever written, and none has inspired as much joy and laughter as this charming musical ensemble known as Group X. Bang bang bang, oh ha, how delightful!" Houndsworth cut our interview short in order to answer a communiqué via instant message from a fellow litterateur, alerting him of another "classic videoed musical performance" by the band Hurra Torpedo. "I'm sorry, I must be moving along now," Houndsworth states. "Apparently, there are a group of Norwegian gentlemen who play kitchen appliances like musical instruments! What fun!"

Ironically, no one has alerted Mr. Houndsworth or his associates to the presence of Wikipedia.